You all thought I'd disappeared forever, didn't you? Hehe, won't be rid of me quite that easily. Sorry this update has taken forever... I literally have very little time for writing... technically, I'm not even supposed to be doing this now... and the time I do have has been mostly devoted to works of original fiction. I've completed my first novel (yes, I finished something! Those of you that know me are probably falling out of your chairs ;o), and commenced work on a second, as well as started writing a third related piece. But that's getting a tad off track.

Anyways, part of the delay has been time (lack thereof, rather), and the other part has been that I'm still planning out this story. Once I get Harry back to school, I pretty much know where I'm going, but until then, I'm kind of flying blindfolded. At this point, at least. I'm hoping to be hit with some brilliant surge of inspiration in this chapter... we'll see, I guess.

Enough of my talk... the chapter!

Harry Potter and the Forgotten Songs

By Hollie Black

    When Harry awoke from a rather fitful night's sleep, he felt very strange, and there was a ringing in his ears. The latter problem, he quickly discovered, was caused by Uncle Vernon, screaming from the downstairs that Harry "better bloody well be awake by now." The former, however, required some investigation.

    Ignoring his uncle's screams –as he so often did nowadays- Harry eased himself into a sitting position. Beneath his left leg, he discovered a square reminiscent of a small, flattened television. Still dumb with sleep, it took him a moment to remember that this was a Matchascope, his birthday present from Ron, Ginny, Fred and George. Smiling, he began to twiddle with some of the brass knobs and buttons. To his delight, he discovered that if he turned the dials to just the right setting, he could, indeed, watch Quidditch matches!

    He was just getting immersed in a match between the Wittenburg Warblers and the Middleshire Muskrats, when he heard the clamor downstairs increase, Aunt Petunia wailing along with her husband's bellows. Sighing, Harry put the Matchascope away and dragged himself out of bed.

    What do they want now? he thought grumpily as he slowly exchanged his night clothes for a freshly laundered t-shirt and a pair of muggle jeans. When he was younger and more naïve, he might have thought that they were calling him for a special birthday breakfast, the kind his overweight cousin Dudley always received. Maybe even a present or two. By now, however, Harry knew there wasn't a chance that the Dursleys would be celebrating anything that involved him, even a milestone like his sixteenth birthday. Normal teenagers would be receiving licenses, but Harry was never what one would consider a normal teenage boy.

    Licenses, however, got him thinking; was their anything special that happened on a wizard's sixteenth birthday? Harry made a mental note to ask Ron when he next spoke with his red-headed friend. He hoped it was soon; the summer had so far been long and lonely, with only his thoughts to keep him company, and none of those were what you'd call joyous.

    The Dursley's, too, provided a sort of "company," but Harry quite honestly would have preferred to spend the summer with a host of man-eating unicorns. They couldn't be any worse than his uncle, aunt and cousin, by Harry's reckoning.

    Particularly at this moment. Harry emerged downstairs to see that his uncle had reached a particularly unflattering shade of puce that clashed horribly with his bulging pinstripe suit. A younger Harry would have been petrified by Vernon Dursely's shouting and coloration, but after coming face to face with the most evil wizards alive more times than he cared to count... Well, Harry was much harder to cow now.

    Harry watched with minor curiosity as he leaned casually against the living room door frame. As his uncle hollered, his aunt Petunia could be found screeching and wailing as she stood atop the coffee table. Harry's bright green eyes scanned the room, searching...

    He found what he sought quickly. There, in the corner (rather, obscuring the corner and the walls for some extent on both sides) huddled his cousin Dudley, who was trying in vain to make himself as small as possible. Harry had to bite his lip to keep from laughing outright, and as it was he hardly managed to smother his chuckles. His attempts at withholding his laughter were pressed even further when he spotted the object of Dudley and Petunia's fear, and Vernon's rage.

    A little green snake, no more than two feet in length, slithered around on the living room floor, hissing softly but causing no threat to anyone. Harry felt bad watching the little thing twist its way about; no living thing should have to endure the Dursleys.

    "Diddykins!" Petunia shrieked as the little snake turned its head to stare at her great blob of a son, in what she interpreted as a threatening manner.

    "Vernon, do something! Save my Duddy!"

    Harry had watched the proceedings with increasing glee up until that point. But when Uncle Vernon came charging in with a broom in hand, intent clear upon his face, Harry knew it was time to intervene.

    Uncle Vernon swung the broom up high over his head, and not a moment too soon did Harry yell, "Look out!" at the little snake. It managed to slither out of the way only an instant before the broom came down right where it had been. Vernon growled his displeasure, as Dudley raced (or rather, waddled very quickly) to his mother, leaping up to the coffee table where she waited with open arms...

    Which turned out being a very unfortunate thing. The poor coffee table had been able to handle Petunia's meager weight, but Harry didn't think that there was a table alive that could support his cousin's bulk. It shattered quite completely, sending Petunia and her son crashing to the ground atop all the debris. This gave the little green snake ample time to sneak past the now distracted Vernon and his broom, and the creature slithered right up to Harry.

    Thank you! it told him with deep feeling.

    "No problem," Harry replied. "Here, want me to set you outside?"

    I would prreferr, brrotherr, that I could converrse with you.

    Harry was confused, but intrigued. He nodded his assent, and offered his hand to the little creature. It slithered onto his palm, curling up neatly, and Harry, with one last glance at the mess that was once a prim living room, turned and retreated to the relative normalcy of his room.

    Once inside, Harry set the snake down upon his desk. Hedwig, inside her cage, surveyed the newcomer with a gleaming amber eye.

    "Not for eating," Harry told her firmly as he guessed her intentions. She blinked lazily and ruffled her feathers, shifting her back to them as if to say, "I don't care."

    Chuckling slightly, Harry turned his attention back to the lithe creature resting atop his desk.

    It iss a grreat pleasssure to meet you, scalesssss-ssib, the snake said. I have looked forrwarrd to thiss forr sssometime.

    "You have?" Harry asked in surprise. "What... how... who are you?"

    Apologiesss... I forrrget my mannerrrsss. My name isss Arrrisss.

    "Aris?" Harry clarified. The serpent nodded his triangular head twice. "And, why have you wanted to meet me, Aris?" Harry felt rather wary; snakes were all too often associated with the Dark Arts.

    You are famed among my people; the Human-Who-Isss-Sssnake. Therrre have been ssstoriesss of you for yearrrs, but I wanted to sssee you for myssself. Aris looked up at him with slit-pupiled eyes. My orrrderrr both admirrresss and ressspectsss you, two-legged one.

    Harry cocked his head. "Your order?" he questioned.

    Harry could have sworn that the corners of the snake's mouth curved into a wry smile for an instant.

    Yesss, Aris said in a smooth voice. I know humansss think that we snakesss arrre interrresssted only in biting them, asss your... friendsss... did...

    Harry could practically taste Aris's sardonic amusement as he continued.

    But therrre arrre only a few sectsss who desirrre the tassste of human flesssh. Of courssse, they give the ressst of usss a bad name. Essspecially among wizzzardsss.

    "So... not all snakes associate with... y'know, dark magic and all," Harry asked.

    Of courssse not! Aris said with reprimand clear in his words. Jussst asss the action of one wizzzard doesss not define the ressst of your ilk, ssso doesss the actionsss of one ssserpent, orrr one orrrderrr, not define the behaviorrr of all otherrrsss.

    Harry nodded; that was logical enough. He decided that he liked this little fellow before him, for all that his species reminded Harry forcibly of his greatest foe.

    Aris's yellow eyes bored into Harry's green one measuringly.

    It isss good to meet you at lassst, Harrry Potter.

    Harry thought for a moment, then smiled and said honestly, "It's good to meet you too, Aris."

    The remainder of Harry's summer passed in relative peace. Harry spent much of his time simply avoiding his relatives, who were still bemoaning the loss of their coffee table. Aunt Petunia whined over the ruined "family heirloom," which amused Harry, who remembered times when she'd complained about wanting to get rid of the "cheap piece of junk" her mother "cursed her with." Uncle Vernon was furious that the little snake had escaped him, and accused Harry every chance he got of using his "you-know-what!" to help the creature.

    Dudley seemed to be the only Dursley who was actually profiting from the experience. He regaled his chums with stories of how he'd single-handedly fought off the huge anaconda that had snuck into his home and ravaged the living room and tried to eat him, before Dudley had bravely chased him out. Harry, with Aris concealed in his shirt pocket, had listened in on one such telling, and both had enjoyed a good laugh over Dudley's version of events.

    Thessse humansss you live with arrre mossst interresssting, Aris commented thoughtfully one day, tiny head peaking out of Harry's shirt pocket, his favored hiding place.

    "I suppose that's one word you could use," Harry agreed, chortling.

    Ssso, you arrre to ssstarrrt yourrr ssschooling again sssoon, no? Aris inquired.

    "Yeah, on the first of September," Harry replied absently. "Which is..." he glanced at his calendar, then took a second look. "Wow, that's next week! Summer sure did fly by."

    Time isss wont to do sssuch a thing, the serpent replied.

    Harry ran his fingers through already disheveled black locks. "I still haven't gotten my school supplies," he said, furrowing his brow. "I'd better go soon. Tomorrow, I suppose. Only question is; how to get there?"

    He couldn't fly to Diagon Alley, nor could he get the Weasley's to take him. Harry had to laugh at the thought of asking his aunt and uncle to drive him there. Then, as he toyed with his wand, the answer came to him. Harry smacked himself in the head for not seeing it before.

    "Thanks, Ern, Stan," Harry called as he stepped off the Knight Bus and onto the curb right in front of the Leaky Cauldron pub.

    "Any time!" the pimple-faced Stan called back with a wave as the doors to the triple-decker bus snapped shut. Harry watched as the huge purple vehicle spluttered and banged, then leapt away from the curb and whizzed out into traffic. Harry could only assume that there was some magic protecting the bus from muggle eyes, and none of them paid any attention to it.

    Thisss isss wherrre you purrrchassse yourrr sssuppliesss?

    Harry grinned widely as he looked at the decrepit building. "Sort of," he replied as they entered. He nodded a greeting to Tom, the toothless proprietor of the pub, and made his way to the familiar brick wall in the back courtyard.

    Interrresssting, Aris commented as he watched Harry tap on the bricks and the entrance to Diagon Alley revealed itself. Mossst interrresssting.

    "You like that word, don't you?" Harry laughed as the snake peered around in obvious wonder and pleasure as they entered the bustling shopping center.

    Well, therrre isss a grrreat deal that interrresstsss me, Aris replied diplomatically.

    "Indeed," Harry replied. "You're as curious as any cat I've ever met."

    Aris inhaled in a sharp hiss. I would rrrequessst that you not comparrre me to thossse furred rrruffiansss.

    "Sorry," Harry whispered. He had to keep his voice low now, because he'd learned the hard way how wizards responded to the use of Parseltongue.

    "Don't like cats much then, eh?"

    Let'sss jussst sssay I have neverrr encounterrred one I have favorrred. What in the name of Fang iss that

    Harry glanced in the direction that the serpent's yellowed eyes were staring.

    "Aaah..." Harry searched for an explanation. "I think it's supposed to be a hat... I hope that's supposed to be a hat..." Harry quickened his steps, hoping to avoid the wizard who was sporting a pile of furs, rags and jingling bells atop his head. He also wore a strange set of robes, bright green ones with yellow sequins.

    Humansss and their clothesss, Aris muttered, shaking his triangular head. Sssnakesss arrre morrre sssensssible; we don't botherrr with sssuch sssilly thingsss.

    Harry bit back a laugh. "Most humans wear normal clothes. Besides, they keep us warm, and... covered."

    Sssilly, Aris repeated stoutly.

    "There are humans who would agree with you," Harry said with a smile, thinking of certain roommates he had back at Hogwarts.

    As if on cue, a familiar chorus of voices reached Harry's ear, and he spun around, smile wide on his lips.

    Okay, so not my best work, I know. I'm sorry, this is more one of those filler chapters. Its main purpose was introducing Aris. Heh, who I love, by the by. New characters are always fun.

    Now, I must extend my deepest thanks (and apologies!) to those of you that read chapter one. I'm sorry for not including individual replies, but I'm afraid that if I try to write up those, it'll take me too long and I won't be able to post today. And I've made you all wait so long... heh, so yes.

    Anyways, heartfelt gratitude to the following reviewers (and friends):

The Molecular Lady

Sharp

NikNak

Dragonette

Angel the Devil's Daughter

Nepal

Big Imagination

Delf-the-Pirate

Tru Lys

SilverElf

Pineapples are better pink

Sarai-IceElf

FawkesnFlame and Moony

T.H.W

Quiet One

    I missed you all ... big hugs to everyone! Thank you for having such patience with me. -

Always,

Hollie Black

"If you made a better rat than a human, that's not much to boast about."
-Sirius Black